


Phone call from Ireland

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [162]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 16:27:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14116320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Sam Worthington/Ryan Kwanten storyline in the BDSM RPS RPGCitadel.





	Phone call from Ireland

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Sam Worthington/Ryan Kwanten storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG [Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read).

It's the second night Sam's come home to an empty flat and he's firmly decided it sucks. He takes a look in the fridge at the meals Ryan left him but he's not really hungry. Not for real food anyway. Grabs a beer and a bag of chips instead, throwing himself down on the couch and picking up the remote. One of the satellite channels is playing _The Castle_ , an old favourite, so he settles in, his phone beside him, hoping Ryan'll manage to call at some point tonight.

"Yeah, I'll see you in a bit," Ryan calls over his shoulder, and shuts the cottage door firmly behind him. It's nippy out, a chill breeze blowing through the trees, but it's worth it to him to have the privacy. Aidan's producer Mitchell is overly nosy, he's been reminded, and he wants to talk to his lover without worrying about censoring himself. As he walks deeper into the woods he digs his cell phone out of his pocket, hitting number one on speed-dial.

Sam's just finished his first beer and gone to get a second when his phone rings. Ryan's ring tone. He leaps back onto the couch and grabs it up. "Hey." Trying not to sound like some eager sixteen year-old when he answers.

Ryan doesn't even attempt to keep the excitement out of his voice. "Hey!" he says, a wide grin splitting his face. "Is this a good time?"

"It's a perfect time," Sam says, smiling instantly. "How are you? How's Ireland? You getting settled in?"

"Yeah. It's completely gorgeous here. Next time we'll have to visit together, okay?" Ryan asks, because it's impossible for him to experience a new place and not think about how Sam would be enjoying it, right alongside him. "But I swear Aidan doesn't even _try_ to keep the noise down when he wanks. Christ," Ryan mutters, leaning to rest against a tree in the gathering dusk. "I'd forgotten what it's like to have annoying flatmates."

Sam laughs. "Maybe he's hoping you'll come do it for him."

"If so, he's shit out of luck. He looks way too boy band for my tastes," Ryan says with a laugh. "I miss you. Tell me how your day went." It's a stab at normalcy, so he doesn't feel so much like he's missing something simply by being away from Sam.

"It was good. We filmed the scene where Brian gets killed, which was hard," Sam says, biting at his bottom lip. "He'll still be around for a bit because of the way they're shooting things out of sequence but it was still, I don't know. It was just... it seemed more real than anything else we've done so far."

Frowning, Ryan stuffs his free hand into his pocket. Fuck, this is _exactly_ the kind of time when he doesn't want to be away from his lover: when he might actually do some good with his presence. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's not actually real, is it?" Sam says. "We're just fucking around, playing at this stuff, but it could be. Most of these guys were the same age as us, or younger," he adds, blowing out a breath.

"A lot younger, sometimes," Ryan agrees. He blows out a breath. "Did you collect any new bruises?"

"Not today," Sam says with a smile, grateful for the change of subject. "But yeah, my hipbones are both black and blue from yesterday."

"I'll lick you all over when I come back," Ryan promises, his fingers itching to touch his lover's skin.

Sam grins. " _All_ over?"

"If you'll let me." Ryan's grinning too, arousal starting to build at the image. "I miss the way you taste." It hasn't even been two full days.

"Even when I'm hot and sweaty and haven't managed to shower yet," Sam says, letting his legs fall apart and his hand drift over his crotch.

Ryan shrugs lightly, but his head thumps back against the tree trunk. "What can I say? I'm a pervert," he answers. It's crazy, how far he'll go for Sam. As a matter of fact, Ryan's pretty sure he hasn't even found that limit yet. "I just want to make you feel good."

"Did I sound like I was complaining?" Sam says with a smile, rubbing his hand over his slowly filling cock. "I like you like that. I like you with your tongue up my ass, tasting me, your face buried between my cheeks..."

Moaning softly, Ryan clenches his hand into a tight fist inside his pocket. "Sir," he whispers, "please. Please let me jerk off for you." It'll be awkward as hell to do it out here, sure, but it's hard enough trying to fall asleep without Sam beside him. With an erection like this raging? No chance.

"Go ahead, boy," Sam says, unzipping his jeans and freeing his already-hard cock, "but I'd better be able to hear you. Are you somewhere you can do that?"

"Yes, Sir," Ryan replies, nearly melting with relief in an instant. He undoes his own jeans just enough to slip his hand inside and close tight around his length, and shudders with excitement. "Oh god," he whispers, swallowing hard, and his hole clenches tightly around nothing. "Wish you were inside me."

"I wish I was too," Sam says, flesh throbbing roughly in the grip of his fist. "Where are you?"

Ryan snorts a laugh. "In the woods. The sun's setting, it's getting cold..." He gives himself one long stroke, and shivers with the pleasure of it. "But I can shout as loud as you want me to."

"Mm. I just wanted a better picture," Sam says, stroking slowly. "So I can imagine being there with you. Shoving you down on the ground, my hand on the back of your neck, your face in the dirt as I fuck you so hard you bleed for me..."

The whimper comes instantly. "Fuck, Sir," Ryan moans, tugging sharply at his P.A. "It's been a while," he whispers, trying to recall just when they last got that rough. "I need you to bleed me again. Please."

"When you come home, I'll cut you," Sam promises, his pace steadily increasing. "Tie you to the bed and take hours with you, marking you for every fucking day you've been away."

_Oh, god_. Ryan knows damn well by now that when Sam promises something, he fucking follows through. "Sir," he whispers, finally starting to jack himself off, and he's so turned on that he finds himself on the edge in seconds flat. "God, please, Sir," he begs, warning streaks of lust shivering through him.

"Go ahead, boy. Come for me," Sam says, in no mood to fuck around when Ryan's outside and getting colder by the minute.

In a second Ryan convulses against the tree, spraying hot over his fingers. "Oh god," he gasps, having to work just to keep his feet, now. "Oh, god."

Fuck yes. Sam groans and comes, his cock spurting hot and thick into his hand. Christ. "Good boy," he murmurs.

Ryan draws in one shuddering breath, two, and the cold air is a sudden shock to his lungs. "God," he whispers, and then looks around like it's the first time he's seen his surroundings. "Shit. It's dark now. I hope I'll be able to find my way back."

"You need a headlamp," Sam suggests with a smile, wiping his hand on his jeans. "You should keep me on the phone while you walk back. So I can make sure you get in safely."

Tickled by the thought, Ryan grins. "You're escorting me to my door?" he teases. "Such a gentleman. Why did I even put up with all those thugs before you? I don't even know." He sets his jeans to rights and tugs down his shirt to cover any spreading dampness, then begins to make his way back through the trees, guiding himself by the porch light he left burning in the distance.

Sam laughs. "I miss you," he says softly, realizing the call's coming to an end and they've still got well over a week to go.

"I miss you too, love," Ryan murmurs. "You'll take care of yourself for me?" he urges, emerging from the woods. "Don't get yourself killed at work tomorrow?" It's got to be the roughest shoot that Sam has been on in a while.

"I'll try," Sam teases, smiling, the ache in his chest only increasing. "Love you."

"I love you more. If this is a good time, then I'll call you again tomorrow evening like this," Ryan says. He has reached the porch and now he's just dawdling, not ready to go inside."

"This is a great time," Sam says, the promise of tomorrow's call easing the ache. "You gonna call me every night?"

"Of course. Even if you don't let me come," Ryan teases. He needs Sam like he needs oxygen; sex is only a part of it. "You gonna dream about me?"

"You bet," Sam murmurs. "Maybe I should write them down. Give you all the details when you get back."

"You know I'd love that." Ryan stands beneath the porch light for a long moment more, simply grinning like a fool. Then he sighs. "I love you. I'll call you tomorrow."

Sam nods. "Okay. Sleep well," he says softly, reluctant to be the first to hang up.

"You too." Chewing on his bottom lip, Ryan realizes they've pretty much run out of excuses by now. He ends the call and then just stares at his phone for a long moment before opening the door to the cottage and heading back inside.


End file.
